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Today on Omnivoracious, we're delighted to launch a month-long weekly advice column by Augusten Burroughs, who makes his move from memoirist to self-help strategist with This Is How (available May 8). He starts by answering a frustrated plea from a mom whose husband's foot-dragging makes the whole family cranky. Then he digs into the deeper reasons a "well known, happy, funny, kind, 25 year old" may have been dumped by their best friend.

My husband, the father of our two teenaged sons, works from home as a project manager for a large international corporation. During any given day, our lives will require that someone make a foray out of the house for band practice, food, lessons, doctors appointments, etc. Most of our outings are appointments where we are paying someone money for an actual unit of their time to be dispensed at an agreed up time.

This is the problem. My husband many, maybe even most times, in full knowledge of the rapidly looming time commitment, fires up a phone call, starts an email, sits down for a long personal moment in the bathroom. The rest of us are left seething until he presents himself ready to go. We now leave at the last possible minute, all cranky and out of sorts. If cars and traffic and every other variable aren't perfect, my husband's choices have left us NO wiggle room.

It's simply awful. I have tried to talk to him about it just because it angers me, but also because I don't think it sets the greatest example for our teens. Just the miasma of furor and unsaid words is poor parenting, I think.

What do we do? He has to be involved—so we need a way to get through to him. It's enough to drive me back to drink, which is a country I'm not welcome in any longer. Help. -- Cate

Dear Cate,

I wish I knew even more. Does your husband’s differing degree of respect for punctuality result in real-world problems? Do you end up being late frequently and missing scheduled appointments you’ve already paid for? Or do you pretty much always make it, but it was just so close you aged like a month from the stress of it?

If the answer is the former, I have more questions. Is your relationship healthy and strong and good in other areas? If you’re talking to him about this, that at least tells me the two of you do communicate to some degree, right? Because if you and your husband are a good pair and the family is working, this might be like when you buy something you truly, deeply love at the store and when you get home, you realize there are extra hidden costs: it doesn’t come with batteries, you need a subscription, you can’t wear it until you have electrolysis, whatever. And as annoying as this can be, if you’re otherwise happy, sometimes you just have to fork over the extra.

It was at a highly prestigious, religious wedding feast that Blakeley Bloke, kind of sort of favorite uncle of the bride was asked to make a toast. The elation grew in his eyes, I mean visibly that anyone could see, as he hurriedly quaffed the coke-on-ice in his tumbler.

Sort of kind of hop-skip and jumped across the floor to where the piano man played notes to suit the mood, while fishing out of his coat side pocket a palm sized bottle which held a kind of sort of yellowish - brown concoction he called “Spirit-of-the-spirits”- they move mountains.

He grabbed the microphone on the small table that stood next to the piano man while humming the beginning notes sort of kind of, that came from the hymn book to him to commence the toast……….. di di da day - di day -da day…… took a pose, chest out, chin poised, eyes half shut, shoulders straight, tumbler raised mid-high ,a deep breath in, bl uttered out the tune that could only have come from the fourth of the Three Tenors……..

Drink to your fill

But still with care,

Never a glutton be,

But take……the glass which is your own

And you will contented be.

But take…..the glass….which is your own

And you …will…contended be

Yeah.

Amid the cheers and laughter, the grins and scorns and the fury of the immediate family of both bride and groom, landed Blakeley Bloke outside the festive halls, in the middle of the street. Lucky to be in one piece, realized he was missing a coat sleeve and the right shoe. Also missing was the sweet Tenor voice, but he gained a slurred speech pattern. Unfortunate.

The disappointment to him came while reaching into his coat pocket found the rest of the “Spirit-of-the-spirits” gone….He couldn’t move mountains.